of all, she had memories of feeling safe and secure.
Standing there in the house she had grown up in, knowing the woman who had loved her and raised her was dead, felt as if someone had pulled the floor out from under her and she was balanced on one beam with a huge black hole waiting to engulf her. It felt as if she stood on the perilous edge of a steep cliff in a pair of stilettos after having one too many mojitos. But at least she was still standing, still balancing. She hadn’t caved yet. Big Mama would have been proud of the way she was holding it together.
How did people make it after losing the person who had always been their rock, their advice giver, the person who helped them make a way to the light when darkness threatened? Big Mama had been all those things to Penny, and more. There had never been a time when Big Mama didn’t have advice for Penny’s life, wanted or not.
She remembered when she was twelve and Big Mama sat her under the tree to explain the changes happening to her preteen body and just a little bit about the birds and the bees. Big Mama had been somewhat vague when it came to some parts of the talk. But she had always been the voice of strength and reason, even when Penny messed up and got pregnant at seventeen.
Big Mama was really gone.
In a week or so, Penny would be gone, too. She hated the fact that she’d probably never again see the small three-bedroom, one-bathroom house her grandmother had worked so hard to keep after the grandfather Penny had never had the pleasure of knowing died.
As soon as she settled Big Mama’s affairs, she’d say goodbye to Paterson, New Jersey, for good.
But could she really say goodbye to North Jersey forever?
She couldn’t believe she’d been away for so long. She missed home more than she’d let herself believe. There was really nothing like North Jersey. From the tenements to the fact that you could literally go one block and be in another town—a town that often felt like a different world, North Jersey offered a packed and condensed mix of flavors and cultures different from the equally diverse but much more spread-out and free-flowing Los Angeles she now called home.
Penny was surprised by how she’d gotten back into the flow of Paterson in under a week. The brothers playing c-lo on the corner, the sisters on the stoops gossiping and people watching, the kids running their little behinds in the street, dangerously close to being run over by a car, the storefront churches on just about every block, right next to the liquor stores, the feeling, the flavor, all called out to a part of her she’d thought was gone.
You can take the girl out of Jersey, but you can’t take Jersey out of the girl.
Penny shook her head.
“Brat, you gonna be leaving for California soon, huh?”
Penny jumped and her reverie ended at the sound of Carla’s voice. She made a mental note not to let her mother get to her. But some things were a whole lot easier in theory.
She didn’t need therapy to know that her unresolved issues and textbook abandonment fears all stemmed from the petite, honey-complexioned woman standing in front of her, drinking grape soda as if it were the finest wine.
Penny noted that Carla had taken to calling her by the childhood “endearment” she’d used whenever Big Mama wasn’t around. She couldn’t remember exactly when it went from shut-up-brat, get-out-of-here-brat, you-make-me-sick-you-little-brat, to just Brat, said in a weird, almost loving way. She only knew it was the name her mother called her by.
Gritting her teeth and counting to ten, Penny responded, “Yes, Carla. I have to go back. I have a business to get back to. The most I can stay is a week or two.”
Penny ran an image-consulting firm with her friend Maritza Morales. They were both former video models/dancers, and they’d met on a rap video shoot about twelve years ago. They’d found they were both working their way through school and had developed a friendship. Since Penny had only ever had guy friends, developing a close friendship with a woman had been a challenge. Maritza had had a similar history, since she’d grown up as the only girl in a family of brothers. But they’d worked at their friendship, and it had grown.
Their business, New Images by Keys and Morales, was doing well. Maritza could more than pick up the slack for a little while, in order for Penny to handle her grandmother’s affairs. But it took the two of them and their six faithful employees to really make it a work. Even though Penny pretty much made her own hours, she still needed to do her part to make sure the business remained a success.
Panic crossed Carla’s face. “But I…Well, I…Well, what am I gonna do? I need somebody to…”
Even though years of hard living had taken a bit of a toll on Carla, she still had the good looks, fair skin, long, wavy black hair and petite but somewhat curvy body that most men found irresistible. She also had a vulnerable, childlike appeal that she seemed to be able to pull out when she needed it. If Penny hadn’t seen all the faces Carla worked like a pro—all her multiple personalities, as Penny liked to refer to them—she might have fallen victim to the sad, helpless puppy-dog expression Carla wore at the moment.
Penny knew better, however, and she refused to fall for it.
“Carla, you’re a grown woman. You’re going have to learn how to take care of yourself, eventually.” Penny started walking out of the food-filled dining room, thinking she’d miss Big Mama’s cherry stained furniture and her china cabinet full of knickknacks and family photos.
She knew she wouldn’t be taking any of it with her. Her memories would have to be enough.
Carla would need a place to stay, and since the house was paid for, she could stay here.
Penny only hoped her mother didn’t resort to doing drugs again and end up losing the house and everything in it. But that wasn’t her problem. She couldn’t be responsible for her grown mother.
She wouldn’t be responsible. She refused.
Carla stomped her foot and followed, walking so close she was almost on Penny’s behind.
“I do know how to take care of myself, Brat. I just…Well…with Mama gone now, I just don’t know if…” Carla gave a helpless shrug of her shoulders. “She was the only one who never gave up on me, and she was helping me to stay clean.”
Yet again.
How many times had Big Mama helped Carla get clean and straighten up? And what had given Carla the sense of entitlement that said the whole world had to cater to her needs? Penny couldn’t even fathom how a down-to-earth saint of a woman like Big Mama could have given birth to a self-absorbed person like Carla. She hated that she had to steel herself against Carla’s pleas, because it made her feel hard and cold. A small part of her wanted to help her mother.
However, given her past with Carla, she needed to protect herself. She couldn’t let Carla hurt her again. She wouldn’t be able to deal with it, on top of Big Mama’s death. She would topple over into the waiting black abyss for sure if she opened herself up to fall victim to her mother’s antics again.
“I can’t take Big Mama’s place, Carla. You’re going to have to do it on your own this time.” Feeling as if she was being too harsh didn’t stop Penny from holding her ground.
All those years growing up with a crack addict for a mother had made her toughen up.
